


The Dark One's Lady

by rowofstars



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest, Angst, Cunnilingus, Dark One Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Dark One's Dagger, F/M, Frottage, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Queen Belle - Freeform, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-10-15 21:56:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: Queen Belle is married to Gaston, but the Dark One Rumplestiltskin is her lover.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [this prompt](http://rumbelleprompts.tumblr.com/post/154419434529/lady-belle-might-be-married-to-gaston-but-the-dark) at rumbelleprompts. This was also supposed to be for a-monthly-rumbelling February's prompt "Belle has the dagger and Rumple takes it back."  
> For the amazing Emospritelet on the occasion of her birthday.

Belle touched the engraving that ran down the blade of the dagger, her fingertip trailing over each letter and then off the end. She always got this strange feeling when she held it, from the second she pulled it out of its hiding spot in the loose stone behind the large tapestry, until she replaced it again. It was warm, like the first sip of mulled wine going down her throat, but it pricked at her mind and made her feel like there was something just behind her, watching and waiting.

She laid back against the heap of down pillows, the velvet duvet and soft, smooth sheets already turned down for the night, and sighed. Her gauzy black dressing gown spread out around her legs, the gold lace glowing in the firelight. She knew how she would look when he arrived, reclined on her bed, the sheer fabric hiding nothing. Licking her lips, she closed her eyes and wrapped her hand around the leather hilt of the dagger, holding it up in front of her.

“Rumplestiltskin.”

The name flowed off her tongue easily now.

“Rumplestiltskin,” she repeated, a little louder and firmer. Then she took a breath and started to smile. “Rumplestiltskin.”

“You called?” came a familiar voice from the shadows. “Your Highness?”

He pushed off the wall and stepped out from beside a heavy, embroidered curtain, his lips curved in a smirking little smile and his fingers dancing at his sides. He was in his usual leather breeches and waistcoat but in place of his usual red or gold shirt he wore a rather striking blue. The sleeves flowed around his arms as he walked, smooth and silky. She lowered the dagger, laying it along her body with the tip pointing up between her breasts. He came to stop at the foot of the bed, his eyes staring intently at the blade.

“Rumplestiltskin,” she said softly, smiling as his gaze trailed up her body. She shivered as their gazes met, the unnameable warmth shifting into something deeper. It made her feel heated and restless, and she pressed her thighs together as the first throb of desire coursed through her body.

“Yes... _Mistress?_ ” 

She smirked, and his head tilted and his tongue appeared between his lips, so bright and oddly pink compared to the rest of his green-gold coloring. It hovered there a second and then retreated, but his eyes stayed fixed on her as she shifted the dagger down, letting the hilt stop just above her mound. She had rubbed herself with it before, pressing it over her silks while he was made to sit in a chair and watch, restrained by nothing but her command. _Oh_ , he’d ravaged her after that, leaving bruises on her hips and red bite marks from her neck to her knees.

She thought about doing that again, but it had been weeks since she’d last seen him and she had missed him too much to play games. The dagger was set to the side, and she held out a hand to him. Without a word he knelt on the bed and shifted closer until he was able to hold her hand in his. Then she gave him a little tug and he exaggeratedly flopped down beside her, bouncing her on the bed.

She giggled and swatted at his arm, and he grinned at her.

“And why did my Queen summon me this evening?” he asked, trailing one sharp, black nail along the edge of her dressing gown, down into the split between her breasts. 

His eyes followed his finger until he reached the first gold clasp that held her robe closed, the only thing between him and her perfect skin. She shivered and licked her lips as he traced back up the other side to her collarbone and then into the little dip at the base of her throat. For some reason that spot always tasted particularly lovely to him, especially when she was stretched out under him, her back arching and her head tilted back in pleasure.

His hand moved to palm her breast, but she caught him by the wrist and brought it to her mouth, kissing each of his fingertips with an absurd tenderness. It was one thing he could never understand about her, how she could show such affection and kindness to a monster, and why she’d ever brought him into her bed at all. Her possession of his dagger afforded her complete control of him, yet she’d never exercised it. Everything he’d ever done for her or her kingdom was simply because she asked, and because, well, he did quite enjoy smiting a few ogres and teaching King George a lesson.

Beyond that, however, she’d never asked anything of him beyond this strange companionship. It should have been a simple exchange, a deal, her pleasure for his, but it was so much more. He could feel the pull of the dagger whenever she touched it, but he never feared that she would use it against him. He was quite sure Queen Belle of the Marchlands did not have it in her to harm even the vile Dark One himself. Even if he deserved it. 

But he was also sure this could not be more than it was. She was married and a queen.

Belle nipped at the pad of his thumb and then sucked it into her mouth, letting her lips and tongue play over his rough skin until she drew a low, rumbling noise from his throat.

“Minx,” Rumplestiltskin muttered, bending his head to nuzzle at her breast.

The black fabric was very sheer, nearly transparent save for the gold embroidery that curved under her breasts. She smiled and sucked in a sharp breath as the tip of his nose brushed over her nipple. Goosebumps rose on her chest and along her arms as he repeated his brief attentions on the other side.

“I had it made,” she said, sighing as he shifted down her body. 

He paused and looked up, questioning, his claw-like nails gently digging into her sides and making her twitch.

She smiled. “From your thread.” 

He let out a soft, _ah_. That explained the subtle tingle of magic he felt. It wasn’t the dagger or any of the protection spells he’d placed on her bed chamber. It was his own magic, imbued in the thread and woven into the silken cloth that laid over her body. It also explained why she’d asked him for a spool before his trip to Agrabah.

“Very nice,” he cooed, flashing his teeth just before he kissed her stomach. “But I think it would look much better on the floor.”

Belle giggled and spread her arms to either side, offering the clasps along the front for his perusal. Holding himself up with one arm, he plucked at the gold fasteners, undoing them one at a time and letting the robe fall open. Her breathing increased, spreading the fabric over her breasts, and she let out a light, whimpering sound when the brocade edging caught on her nipples.

Rumplestiltskin smirked and rose up over her body. She hadn’t moved, and now he was wondering just how frustrated he could make her. Perhaps she’d could be made to beg, to plead with the Dark One for her pleasure. He bent again and touched a kiss to the corner of her mouth and then the side of her neck, before running the end of his nose over her soft skin.

She squirmed a bit at the light touch trailing down between her breasts and all the way to her navel. Her body was more than ready for him, had been since she’d taken a bath earlier that evening, the hot water only adding to the feverish sensation creeping beneath her skin. 

“Rumple,” she sighed, and he looked up at her, feigning innocence.

“Her Majesty has no patience this evening?”

Belle pursed her lips. “Her _Majesty_ hasn’t seen you in _weeks_.”

He chuckled and slowly moved back up, pressing feather light kisses along the same path he’d just traced. “You missed the Dark One, hmm?” He nudged aside her robe, exposing one breast to his gaze, and continued up and around her areola, avoiding the aching little pink peak. 

“What a naughty little queen,” he teased, following it with one of his trilling laughs. She groaned in frustration and arched slightly, pressing her chest towards his mouth. “What would that bore of a husband think if he saw you like this?”

She sighed again. “I don’t care what that useless lummox thinks. He’s off hunting something or other, but it’s just an excuse not to be here.” 

He glanced up at her, his hands braced on either side of her body, and then looked rather pointedly at her flat belly. “No offspring yet, then?”

Belle’s face fell. “No,” she replied, and then swallowed and looked away. “He - he does not lie with me.”

Rumplestiltskin frowned and cocked his head. There were a hundred questions on his tongue but he wasn’t sure he should ask any of them. If anything were to arouse the ire of Queen Belle it was probably asking about her obviously troubled marriage. Perhaps that was why she’d sought him out, a lover who she knew could please her even if he had to resort to magic, and no possibility of any emotional entanglements.

Well, almost.

Then she reached for him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Threading her fingers in his hair, she guided him up until they were face to face. Her voice was barely over a whisper when she spoke. “I need you, Rumple.”

There was a small noise from the back of his throat just before his mouth slanted over hers. It was messy and wet as their tongues slid over each other, trading his rumbling moans for her gasping little whimpers. His hands skimmed down her sides to lift her hips, her legs falling open as he settled between them. He broke the kiss and bent his head, finally closing his lips around one of her nipples and sucking gently.

Belle cried out at the first touch of his teeth and arched against him, pressing her body as close as possible, wanting to feel all of him. She wrapped a leg around his waist and shifted against the lacings of his leather breeches. The leather was supple and soft, growing slick with her warm juices, but the lacing was just a bit rough and strained over his erection. With every jut of her hips her sensitive flesh rubbed against his leathers, driving her towards orgasm.

She was holding him so fiercely that Rumplestiltskin didn’t want to move. As much as he wanted to bare himself and bury his cock inside her, he couldn’t fathom stopping her. He let her move against him, pleasuring herself and leaving him with only a taunting pressure as he kissed anywhere he could reach. When she started biting her lip, he knew she was close and carefully scraped his nails over her breast, catching her nipple at the last second and pinching as she squeezed herself against him.

Her face was buried in his neck when she cried out her release, the pleasure flashing with a blinding white light behind her eyes. She felt almost dizzy, like she’d spun around too much. It tickled low in her belly and she would have laughed had she not felt Rumplestiltskin move against her. He was still hard between her legs, and she moaned in his ear.

He hummed and smiled, raising up to brush her hair back from her forehead. “My, my,” he tutted. “You were quite in need.”

Belle’s lips twitched and she lifted up to kiss him. “I said it had been _weeks_.”

Rumple sat back and gave her a strange look. “In all that time you never...?”

She laughed and shook her head. It was amusing how he could say such devious and naughty things while she was rutting against him, and then become too shy to ask her if she touched herself, all in the span of a moment. “S’not the same without you,” she said. “It doesn’t - “ she paused and swallowed, meeting his strange, dark eyes. “ _Satisfy_.”

He took a slow, steady breath and held her gaze as he moved down her body once more until he was lying between her thighs. She was red and swollen, glistening with the evidence of her orgasm. It was such a tempting, sweet pussy, laid out for him like the finest gift and more precious than any gold he’d ever spun.

His lips pressed gently, traveling up her leg from her knee to her center, stopping the moment he got to the crease of her hip. Belle’s hips rose a little, forcing him to tighten the grip on her knees to hold her still, all the while completely skipping over her sticky, warm cunt, and repeating the process down her other thigh.The sound she made when he finally brushed against her curls almost killed him.

“My beautiful Belle,” he said, and spread her with his fingers.

She tasted divine. He pushed his tongue inside as far as he could, licking her open. The muscles on the insides of her thighs twitched beneath his palms. He grinned and bit at her leg.

She keened and writhed, straining against his grip. “ _Please_ , Rumple.”

He groaned at the desperation in her voice and gave her one long, wet lick with his tongue, flat and soft. His cock throbbed and his hips jerked against the bed, seeking any sort of relief. He could magic his clothes away with a thought and bury himself inside her, take her hard and fast until she screamed. Instead his lips found her swollen bud and suckled gently while his hands held her thighs open. When he could feel the tense shaking of her muscles, he let go to soothe and tease her with flat swipes of his tongue. 

One of her hands was in his hair and the other clutched at the blankets. She tossed her head back and forth on the pillow, awash in sensation and feeling another coil of intense pleasure in her core. What a debauched picture she must make in these moments, legs spread lewdly for the Dark One to lie between them. The people would think her insane, evil even, but the man who was using his mouth on her, who was driving her mad with pleasure, was far from evil. He was many things; sorcerer, trickster, lover, but not evil.

Rumple wished he could see more of her body writhing for him, but he didn’t want to stop, not for a second. Then she started lifting her hips, grinding against his face and he couldn’t keep his slow, torturous pace anymore. He had to have more of her, had to lick her to a frenzy until her essence was dripping all over him, his chin and shirt soaked with her scent. With the nails of her hand scraping against his scalp and her thighs locked over his back, he shifted and slid two fingers inside her, pressing deep until he could hear that quick inhale of breath she always made just before she broke. He sucked hard on her clit, and she shrieked as she came, high and sharp. Her whole body tensed up for a long moment, her back arching and lifting off the bed as much as the pressure of his hands would allow, before she slumped back into the mattress, boneless. 

Her breath came in short gasps, almost sobs, but when he tried to move away she rolled with him, shoving him onto his back, her knees landing on either side of his hips. They locked eyes and Rumple felt his cock throb, begging to be inside her. She was looking at with a bemused expression despite her heavy lidded eyes, and her lips were quirked in a slight smile.

His eyes narrowed, but his smirk was playful. “What?”

 

Belle looked him up and down, sitting back on his thighs. His hair was mussed from her fingers, his chin and part of his shirt wet and shining with her juices, and the lacings of his leather trousers pulled tight over his erection. She thought he was oddly beautiful, always, but especially like this, all undone for her. The Dark One wanted her and it was a heady, powerful feeling, but her chest ached too. He couldn’t love her as she did him.

She shook her head, shaking her soft curls. “The way you look right now,” she said as she pressed her palms to his hips and slid them up to where his shirt had pulled loose. 

Her fingers teased the little patch of skin that peeked out from under the blue silk, and then moved down to graze his engorged cock, nails flicking over the crisscrossed laces. His eyes fluttered and he hissed, causing her to grin rather devilishly. Her fingertips gathered some of her sticky essence from the leather, and she raised them to her mouth as he watched her with wide eyes. She brushed her bottom lip slowly before pushing her fingers into her mouth, rubbing them over her tongue. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, and she moaned at the taste of herself.

“Belle,” he gasped softly.

She bit her lip and looked down at him. “What do you need, Rumple?”

His eyes closed again, and she wondered if he hated her teasing him like this but was too afraid to deny her. Once again the power of his dagger nagged at the back of her mind. He told her once that as long as it wasn’t in her hand it couldn’t control him, but she always wondered if that were entirely true, or if her possession of it in mind was enough. She wouldn’t have him be coerced or forced, not in this, so she asked.

“Tell me, please?”

Rumple settled his hands at her waist and pulled her higher so she was sitting over his cock. Then he pitched his hips into her, making her whimper and cry out with renewed pleasure. 

“I need you,” he said finally, squeezing his eyes shut again when she rolled against him. “ _Please_. Belle -”

Her hands immediately went to the lacing of his trousers. The tie at the top was easy, he only ever used a single knot and then tucked the loose ends in at the waist, but she was too anxious and her fingers fumbled over the rest. Her nails caught in the tight crisscrosses, snapping when she pulled and making her hiss. He tried to help her, but their hands got in the way of each other, and in the end a wave of his hand and a tingling swirl of magic was the easiest solution.

Belle gasped at the feeling of his magic touching the inside of her thighs as it untied and opened his trousers. She looked down and saw his cock bob between her legs, finally free of the tight leather. It was oddly colored like the rest of him, but smooth and thick. She loved how it stretched her open and made her feel perfectly full, just to the point of pain when he pushed deep, but so satisfying.

She shifted up and situated her knees on either side of his hips. He moaned as she took him in hand, stroking him once before guiding him between her legs. Rumple felt her pussy meet the head of his cock, a hot, slick greeting that had him growling and rolling his head on the pillow. His hands squeezed her bottom as she rose up, and knew he'd leave bruises there too. His fingerprints would be all over her, the feeling of her tight cunt imprinted on him forever.

She was exactly what his cock needed and he was positive he wouldn't last long. Before his queen had allowed him in her bed, it had been years since he'd gotten off at all, much less inside a woman. Why bother when there was so much work to do? It was longer still since he’d touched a woman this way or brought her pleasure. He’d lived almost three hundred years, knew thousands of spells and potion, and he knew he’d never find anything that felt as good as this.

Belle hadn't even rocked her hips yet and already he could feel his balls tensing and his cock pulsing. She stayed still, her hands on his stomach and her eyes closed, letting them both get used to the intensity of their pleasure. Rumplestiltskin had once thought pleasure was lost to him, that all there was for him was suffering and loss. He’d let the loneliness fuel him, used his pain and anger over Baelfire to excuse what he did to others. The ends always justified the means.  
But she was so different. She had power and station, things he hadn’t known before the curse, yet she was grounded and cared about her people. It was the reason she had the dagger in the first place, and why she subjected herself to a loveless marriage with a cruel and cold man.

Finally, Belle’s eyes opened and gazed down at him. He licked his lips and squeezed her arse again, bringing a smile to her face. Her hips started to move in a slow grind, her walls fluttering as they adjusted to the thickness of his cock. She shifted forward and brought him deeper, her mouth falling open in a gasp, until he was pressed as close as possible. 

Arousal settled low in his gut, his hips rocking in the same rhythm as hers. It wasn't hard enough or fast enough. He needed more, needed to feel like he was possessing her, like he was the one in control even though he’d been lost to her from the moment he laid eyes on her. Moving his hands to her hips, he lifted up and rolled them, pinning her beneath him so he could push himself into her as harshly as he needed. She was still sensitive, and it took no time at all for him to feel her pussy start to pulse and shudder again, her cries echoing off the high walls of her bed chamber.

They were both lost in the sensations, sweaty foreheads pressed together, Belle whimpering every time Rumplestiltskin thrust into her. She started lifting her hips into his, needing him deeper and deeper, impossibly so. She needed him in her soul.

Belle called out his name, her fingers tangling in his hair and pulling hard. A few more hard thrusts sent them both over the edge, her swollen, hot cunt squeezing him tight. He made an almost unearthly noise, a whimpering cry that preceded one last jut of his hips. His cock jerked, and he sighed, filling her with his seed as she rutted against him, still in the throes of her third orgasm.

When Rumple finally caught his breath, her forehead was against his and his cock was still inside her. She tilted her head slightly and aligned her lips with his own, pulling him down by his shoulders, as her legs lifted and wrapped around him, holding him in the cradle of her hips.

They had kissed before, many times, but this felt like something entirely different, something that had nothing to do with using his dagger to summon him for a hard fuck. It was tender and patient, almost loving. His tongue slipped into her mouth without teasing, tasting her carefully and feeling the light vibration of her moans. His lungs started to burn and he pulled away, sucking in a deep breath. She pushed up and pecked at his lips, his chin, his cheek.

"Will you stay?" she asked, laying back on her pillow. It was a whisper and a question she'd never asked him before.

Rumplestiltskin sighed, and traced the swells of her breasts with the tip of his nose. “I can’t, Mistress.”

He watched her face fall as she nodded, and he pushed himself up, finally sliding his softened cock from between her folds. With another wave of his hand, he had put himself back together, leather trousers clean and laces in place, his shirt tucked in again and free of the wet stains of her arousal.

Belle rolled to the side and then sat up, watching Rumplestiltskin fiddle with the frilly cuff of his sleeve. Pressing her lips together, she reached over and took the dagger from the side table where she’d set it earlier, feeling that strange, warm rush again. He looked up at her immediately, and she could see his jaw clench. He was probably wondering if she would command him. She could have, but what point would there be in keeping a lover who didn’t really want to stay?

Instead she sighed and held out the weapon, turning it so the hilt was pointed towards him and the sharp tip towards her chest. It was symbolic to say the least.

Rumple’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at the dagger. “What is this?”

“Your dagger,” she said plainly. “Take it.”

His gaze flicked to her, then to the dagger, then back to her again. His brow creased with a confused frown. “Why?”

She licked her lips and stood, holding her flimsy robe closed with one hand as she pushed the dagger towards him. “Because I shouldn’t have it. No one should.”

He swallowed and his eyebrows lifted in uncertainty. One hand came up, his fingers rubbing over each other as he restrained himself from reaching for the blade. “You would let the Dark One off his leash?”

Belle stepped closer, lowering the dagger carefully and shifting her hand to hold it properly. “I would have you free to make your own decisions, and tethered to me no longer.”

His hand came forward and his fingertips caressed the leather-wrapped handle just above her hand. “I won’t come when you call,” he said softly, letting his fingers drift down over hers. 

He wrapped his hand over hers for a moment and then let her slip her hand free. For the first time in nearly twenty years, he held the dagger in his hands and felt something ease in his mind. There was no more tension, no worry that someone would summon him or command him, that he would be compelled to do things he did not wish to do. But what had also left him was a presence he’d come to know as Belle. It was a warm, quiet feeling that lingered at the edge of his consciousness. It was familiar and oddly comforting, but now it was gone and there was just - 

_Nothing_.

“Thank you,” he managed, his voice hoarse. He looked from the dagger to her face. The corners of her eyes were bright with tears. He raised his free hand and caught one as it fell, wiping it away with a brush of his thumb.

Her eyes closed slowly as she turned her face into his light touch. “Goodnight, Rumplestiltskin.”

He took a step back, slipped the dagger in the inside of his vest, and bowed low, his hands moving in a flourish. “Your Majesty.”

A plume of purple smoke encircled him, and Belle dropped onto the edge of her bed, her tears falling in earnest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A follow up set immediately after the first chapter, requested by several readers and an Anon on Tumblr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Anon: I loved your fic Dark One's Lady, and I was wondering if there was any more of it planned?
> 
> So this happened… takes place immediate after the end of the dark one’s lady. I don’t really have more planned, just some scenes in my head, so we’ll see what else might come out and what people ask for. Thanks, Anon!

Belle slept fitfully that night. For the first time since she was a child, there was no dagger of the Dark One in her castle. She hadn’t realized what a strange comfort the blade had become. It had been foolish to hope that she could entice Rumplestiltskin into her bed, she should have known that. Whatever they’d had was obviously just for fun for him, another of his games, perhaps. For her it had been much more than that.

She was in love with him.

It felt ridiculous to even think it. He was the Dark One. Cursed by something ancient and evil, yet his eyes could be the kindest and softest she’d ever seen. He looked at her sometimes like she made the world turn. Yet, she could never really tell if he felt anything more than wonderment and curiosity towards her, and if it was more than a lustful affair.

Her day passed slowly, and through every meal and meeting she caught herself fidgeting restlessly. Her mind was unsettled by the events of the previous evening, and she kept wondering if she’d made a mistake. What if she had underestimated the Dark One? What if he couldn’t be trusted? What if he did something terrible and she could have stopped it?

Arriving at her room, she shoved the door shut with a loud thud, leaning her whole body into it and sagging against the thick wood. She was being ridiculous. Those were probably the same thoughts her father had when he took possession of the dagger and forced Rumplestiltskin to do his bidding. Yes, the results could be deemed worthwhile; the kingdoms were at peace, the ogres were removed to a land where they could exist away from humans, and the people prospered. 

But at what cost? The enslavement of another person, a being that few considered to be human, or to even have feelings. He’d been caged and treated like an animal, a beast whose only purpose was to deter or destroy others. It galled her to think about how much blood was on her family’s hands, how much might have been on her own had she not looked in his eyes and heeded his plea.

Giving Rumple his freedom was the least she could do. He didn’t deserve to be anyone’s pawn anymore. Everything that came after, well, she’d have to live with her actions and her feelings.

Sighing, Belle pushed off the door and unclipped her heavy cape as she crossed to her vanity. She tossed the cape over the footboard as she passed by the bed, and then stopped. There was an unusual feeling pricking at the back of her mind. She turned, frowning, and scanned the room, her eyes darting from the furniture to the walls, and even up to the ceiling. Finally, she settled on the tapestry beside the fireplace, and swallowed hard.

One corner was askew, folded up and caught on the stone.

She walked towards it slowly, her gaze never wavering. Her hand hesitated for a second, hovering over the tapestry. She took a deep breath and then lifted it, gasping when she saw the shimmer of the magic ward that had guarded the dagger. There should be no need for it now that she had returned the weapon to Rumple, but there it was. She touched it with a finger and the air went wavy as a small plume of purple mist floated up.

Belle gasped and pulled her hand back, pressing her palm against her chest. She blinked twice and stared at the lettering along the blade, black on silver, the same as it ever was, as if she’d never given it away.

He’d returned the dagger to her.

She reached out again and brushed her fingertip over the letters of his name, shivering as warmth tickled down her spine, like the brush of his lips over her skin. It was hers for the taking once again, an offering, and that had to mean something. She wrapped her hand around the hilt, squeezing the soft leather, and raised it in front of her.

Her lips curved as she spoke. “Rumplestiltskin.”


End file.
